Elevator buttons and morning air
Stranger's silence makes me wanna take the stairs
if you were here, we'd laugh about their vacant stares
but right now, my time is theirs

It was awkwardly quiet inside the elevator. As the doors opened on each floor, a little ding noise would sound above Camille's head, and she'd flinch slightly. 5 more hours, Camille, just 5 more hours, she thought to herself as people flooded out the doors to get to their work. It was kind of creepy standing in among all these people whose eyes were unfocused, lips moving soundlessly, and fingers drumming against a beat that no one else could hear.

There was a guy next to her who was staring at her, and she desperately wanted to reach around and smack him with her handbag. She hated being stared at. She hated having people's eyes roam her body like she was a science experiment. As the elevator rose up and up and up to the top floor where she worked, she was seriously regretting her decision to take the elevator. The stairs would have been a much nicer option because it would have given her enough time to figure out just how many hours, minutes and even seconds until she could escape this hellhole.

Just 5 more hours.

Seems like there's always someone who disapproves
they'll judge it like they know about me and you
and the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do
the jury's out, but my choice is you

The doors opened on her floor, and before she could even blink, she was being pushed aside and elbowed so that people could get to work faster. She was left standing in the elevator staring at where everyone was marching to their desks. "Ow." She mumbled to herself as she followed. When she reached her desk, she smiled down at the picture on her computer screen. Her and her wonderful fiancée with their arms wrapped around each other, and they were smiling like there was no tomorrow.

"That your boyfriend?" A voice drawled behind her, and she turned to see Marcy, a 20-something woman who worked on the same floor as Camille, standing above her with her hands on her hips, her sharp black eyes on the photo frame. Camille nodded. "Not very good looking, is he?"

Camille's eyes narrowed and she glared up at the taller girl. "To me, he's the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen." She snapped before she spun on her chair to face her desk. She put her head down and let her hair cover her face so that Marcy wouldn't see the tears threatening to spill over her lashes.

"Yes, well, good for you." Marcy turned crisply on her heel to walk off, her little high heels clicking on the linoleum floor. Camille couldn't resist the temptation.

She swivelled on her chair and shouted to Marcy's retreating back, "And just so you know, he's my fiancée!"

Just 4 and a half more hours.

So don't you worry your pretty little mind
People throw rocks at things that shine
and life makes love look hard
The stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours

With only 3 hours left until she could escape, Camille felt like banging her head against the desk. Work was normally ridiculously boring, but today was just ridiculous. The clock was moving 2 times slower than its normal speed, and she wanted to break it with a hammer. Everyone around her was scribbling furiously, glancing up at their screens every now and then.

Camille wasn't working, not today. She was sitting at her desk, very slowly and deliberately eating her sandwich, waiting for the time to tell her it was her moment to run for it. Eventually, bored of people watching, she plugged her headphones into her computer and watched one of the videos that her and her fiancée had made together.

It was in the middle of fall, when the leaves were littering the ground, and her fiancée was holding the camera and filming her while she raked up spare leaves. "Are you gonna help me or just stand there and film?" She demanded, pulling a face, while he laughed behind the camera.

"It's funny, though." He said. She glared at him and pretended to swing the rake at him.

"Not for me it's not." She said in reply, and then she screamed when he bent down, scooped up a handful of leaves and threw them at her. "That's disgusting!" She shouted, but she was laughing so hard she was doubled over. Her fiancée was laughing so hard he fell on the ground and the camera fell beside him, still trained on Camille. She dropped to her knees and crawled over to him, picked up the camera, held it out at arms' length and snuggled into his arm.

"This is what we get up to in our spare time." She said, grinning.

Her fiancée smirked and kissed her temple gently. "Among…other things." He said mysteriously, a smirk tugging at his lips.

They both dissolved into fits of laughter again.

Just 3 more hours.

You never know what people have up their sleeves
Ghosts from your past gonna jump out at me
lurking in the shadows with their lip gloss smiles
but I don't care 'cause right now you're mine

The clock still wasn't moving.

She had watched all the home videos they had made together, including the saddest one, when she had waved goodbye to him and his friends. When she got back inside that day, she pulled out a huge poster board, ruled lines on it and created a calendar for the next 6 months. Each day that passed would mean another day closer to saying hello to him again.

With a sigh, Camille pushed herself up from her chair, grabbed a few papers off her desk that she needed to photocopy and marched off with her head held high. There was a bit of a queue to copy, and Camille stood at the end with her hands crossed firmly over her chest and her foot bouncing in time to a rhythm that was only inside her head.

"Excuse me?" A simpering voice whispered behind her, and she turned to see a thin, gangly woman behind her holding a glossy magazine and wearing one of the most fakest smiles Camille had ever seen. "Are you Camille?" The lady asked, smiling even wider, and Camille noticed a speck of lipstick on her teeth. She nodded. The lady – Sally, Camille was pretty sure was her name – pushed the magazine into her hands and opened to a particular page. "Read this."

Her eyes flew across the page with her fiancée and his three best friends on the next page, and her eye caught one question that was directed to the man she was in love with.

Interviewer: So, any love interests or romance blooming?
Him: Actually, yes. My beautiful fiancée Camille who I'm head-over-heels in love with. I proposed to her just before we went on tour. She's my everything and being on this tour has been hard because I'm away from her.

Camille glanced up at Sally, who was reading over her shoulder, and Camille smiled, ripped the page out of the magazine, tucked it into her pocket and handed the magazine back to Sally with a smile.

Just 1 more hour now.

And it's not theirs to speculate if it's wrong and
your hands are tough but they are where mine belong in
I'll fight their doubt and give you faith with this song for you

And finally, the clock was moving!

Camille had gotten down to work eventually, but she kept glancing up every five minutes to see how much longer. She hadn't been able to sit still all day as the hours dragged on, and she was itching to just leap up and run. But she had to wait as patiently as she could.

She couldn't wait to see him and hold his hand as tight as she could. Camille didn't care what other people thought about their relationship or if they thought it was wrong or right or in between. It was their relationship and nobody else's. She loved him to the end of the world and back.

And pretty soon, she'd be able to see him.

'Cause I love the gap between your teeth
And I love the riddles that you speak
and any snide remarks from my father about your tattoos will be ignored
'Cause my heart is yours

And pretty soon, the clock was announcing three 'o'clock and Camille, who was bouncing up and down in her seat, leapt up, pushed everything she needed from her desk into her bag, grabbed her scarf and jacket off the back of her chair and bolted. At first, she waited in front of the elevator, but that was taking too damn long, so she just ran toward the stairs and took all 20 flights down, skipping and jumping over them three at a time.

She couldn't miss the bus. She just couldn't. Not today, of all days.

She skidded up to the bus stop just as the bus was pulling in, and she leapt on breathlessly. "This goes to the airport, right?" She asked the surly driver, who nodded and extended a hand. She paid him and sat down in the front seat. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through some of the pictures. There was one of her and her fiancée smiling and she couldn't help but sigh at his beautiful smile that melted her heart.

The next one along was him holding up a piece of paper with a smiley face next to it and it read, 'People throw rocks at things that shine!' and he was laughing and she was laughing. The next one along was her holding her hand cupped into half a heart, and so was his hand, and when they put them together, it made a complete heart.

The last picture she looked at in almost 100 of them on her phone was one of him holding up his shirt to reveal her name tattooed clearly across his skin in swirly writing – it was her 21st birthday present (one of them, of course) and he had turned up at her door wincing every time she touched his torso, and eventually she just pulled up his shirt and screamed.

"It was supposed to be your birthday present." He had whined, looking very grumpy with her, but she just ignored him and traced the letters with a fingertip. And then, without even waiting, she had thrown herself at him so hard he had fallen to the ground and she kissed him so hard she was scared that she was going to bruise his lips.

In the photo, however, he was looking very strong and handsome, and written underneath it in tiny writing was 'Loves you' in permanent marker. She had wanted to help him wash it off that night because she felt very guilty, but he had said no and told her, "I want to keep it on. I love it." That had been almost three months ago, and the eight little letters still hadn't faded from his skin, but she was pretty sure that it was because he kept writing over it each night.

"Airport, next stop." The driver said, and Camille leapt up so fast she almost tripped and stumbled through the window. She jumped off the bus and ran across the road into the airport, bursting through the doors into the air conditioning and looking around wildly. Her eyes adjusted to the brightness and she continued to search for the four familiar boys she had grown up with, but one in particular.

"CAMILLE!" A voice shouted, and her head snapped to the left, her jaw dropped open and her eyes widened. There he was, walking toward her with that same confident swagger she had grown to love and a smile that melted her heart. His hair was sticking up at all angles and his eyes looked weary and tired, but he had trained them on her and they looked a lot brighter.

Without even thinking, she dropped her bag to the floor, he followed suit, and she ran right up to him and into his arms. He lifted her up into the air and she breathed in his scent of vanilla and mint. He kissed her neck gently before he put her down and held her face in his tough hands. She instinctively leaned into his soft touch.

"How's my beautiful princess?" He asked her, tilting his forehead against hers.

She smiled at his old nickname and placed one hand over his heart, where she could feel it drumming against her palm. "A lot better now that you're home." She whispered, tilting her head slightly so she could kiss him. He tasted like Starbucks Vanilla Latte and she sighed against his lips. "How was the tour?" Camille's arms laced around his shoulders and his wrapped around her waist.

"It was alright. But I couldn't wait to get home every night so I could call you." He told her, running the pad of his thumb across her cheek gently.

"Your calls lit up my day. Work's been so boring." Her voice cracked slightly; he heard it, and he smiled softly, pulling her close again.

"I'm home now, princess. I'm home." He whispered brokenly into her skin, and a single tear traced its way down Camille's porcelain face. She pulled back and looked at him with wet, bright brown eyes.

"I can't be a princess without my prince, Logan." She grinned at him, and he laughed and kissed her again. Oh god, she had missed his taste so much. 6 months without him was 6 months too damn long. And then, Camille suddenly pulled away from Logan with a grin on her face as a voice she knew too well shouted:

"Where's my baby sister?"

Logan rolled his eyes as Camille kissed him one last time, ran her hands through his hair, and then took off toward James, Kendall and Carlos, who each had their arms held out and was each smiling like idiots. She hugged Kendall first, and then James, and finally Carlos, who scooped her up into his arms and spun her around like she was six instead of 25.

Logan walked up to them with a smile on his face and finally yelled over the chatting the four of them were doing, "HEY! Can I have my fiancée back, please?" Camille extracted herself from Carlos and stood in front of Logan, whose arms closed around her waist and his lips pressed against her neck.

"It's good to have you back." Camille whispered into his ear, her hot breath making his skin tingle and causing a shiver to run down his spine.

"It's good to be back, princess." He murmured, and she blushed a dark red.

And really, it was. Because as much as Logan loved Kendall, Carlos and James, and as much as he loved to perform and see his fans every night, the tour bus wasn't his home, nor were the many hotels they had stayed in for their all over the world tour. No, none of those places were his home.

His home was wherever Camille was.

tada! So the last line was a bit cheesy because I couldn't really figure out how to finish it. I promised you all another T-Swift songfic, and here it is to her beautiful song Ours, and the music video is just OMG FLUFFINESS! So I haven't done fluff in a long time, but here's my attempt at it. And I really cannot seem to be able to help myself when it comes to writing sibling love between Camille, Kendall, James and Carlos. So please forgive me. Now, review because you've obviously already read, and let me know what you think.
P.S. I will be writing a lomille multichapter, but i just need inspiration, which will most likely come in the form of my two best friends who are idiots but I love em anyway! So I'll start that soon, I promise!
HPloveofmylife